A Dream Is a Wish Our Heart Makes
by Writer Writes Words
Summary: We all have dreams, but what also matters is with whom we share that dream. When all your dreams come true, who do you want standing next to you? A story about four conflicted hearts--but there's a simple answer any Brucas can give you.
1. A Dream Is a Wish My Heart Makes

**Happy Holidays, FF-readers!** I hope, after reading Mark Schwahn's interview and living in this economic hell-hole, you guys aren't resorting to alcohol to cheer up this holiday season.

Now that I am finished with SATs, college applications, etc., I expect to update regularly—although there still remains many distractions in life. But I am actually extremely excited to write this story, especially with Barack Obama's victory. I _hope_ things will _change_; and I _believe _through perseverance, we Brucas fans will trump evil, will annihilate Pucas. (I'm reluctant to trust Mr. Schwahn, but I'm still _sitting, waiting, wishing._)

**Summary: **We all have dreams, but what also matters is with whom we share that dream. _When all your dreams come true, who do you want standing next to you? _(Dude, is that even a summary? Sorry, I want you to read it, but I would consider that the theme!!) I know, I know…the love-triangle sucks. But what about a love parallelogram…with throwbacks to the scenes we love? (Because I can't come up with anything original? Yeah, something like that.)  
**Main Characters: **Brooke, Lucas, Julian, and the yucky woman.  
**Guest appearance (later on):** Daoud because I love that guy.

* * *

_A Dream Is a Wish My Heart Makes._

Lucas Scott stood outside a familiar door but one he hasn't walked through since he helped his fiancée move. There, he stood with his finger glazing over the doorbell. Hesitant to enter. He turns around, but thunder strikes. He takes a step back, and the door swings open.

"Brooke," he acknowledges the body standing two inches away from his.

"Lucas, what are you doing here?" She stares at the puzzled, lost boy drenching on her porch.

He stares back at her, and his face grows harder—expressionless. He just stares as she shivers in her trench coat, dark blue jeans, and black boots. He, on the other hand, is wearing nothing but a sweater, a pair of jeans, and sneakers, yet somehow he is rather numb in feeling the hail ambush his bear skin.

She opens the door to walk in, but he doesn't follow. "Lucas," she says, dragging him into her house, "What's going on? Hold on. Let me get you a towel." She walks up the stairs.

Lucas' hands dig deep inside his pocket, gripping onto something. Squinting his eyes, he lets out a deep sigh. "Brooke, I'm sorry." But he doesn't continue.

She returns those same squints. "Tell me what's going on, Lucas."

"I…Peyton…"

"You and Peyton, what?"

Lucas, wincing in his thoughts, mutters a few more words, "Peyton…she's—"

Brooke looks at him. "Did you two get in a fight?"

He studies her concerned face, and guilt rides him harder. He runs up the stair, and she meets him half way. He wraps his arms around her in the tightest hug, wiping his tears away on her shoulders.

Her mouth drops, and she hugs him back tightly, brushing his wet and cold hair. "You guys will forgive each other. Don't worry. You guys are this epic couple."

He shakes his head. "Brooke, I walked out on her."

"Just go home. I'm sure it's fine."

"After she told me she was pregnant."

The power goes off. The house freezes. The two bodies wrapped as one, standing inches from the wall, grow tense.

(Because she is his _forever_.)

She stops holding him. She lets go. "I—I'm going to find a flashlight." And she runs into her room. A tight tug yanks at her weak heart.

Ten minutes later, she walks out of her room—with mascara reapplied. Lucas, no longer standing in the staircase, sits with his head resting on his knees.

Her heart breaks even more to see Lucas this way. She tosses her Powerpuff Girls' flashlight into the room before approaching Lucas. She kneels beside him. "Hey."

He lifts his head up to look at her. His eyes, puffy.

"Congratulations, Lucas. It's wonderful. What's wrong?"

He doesn't say anything to her gaze. "It's a girl."

"So, why are you sad, Lucas? You're getting everything you wanted, a family."

More tears sprint down his eyes. "Because it's our dream. Because it's what _we_ wanted: the two boys and a girl, summers at _our_ beach house, winters at _our_ home in the south of France, me coaching Little League, you baking-but-more-like-buying treats. It's what we—"

Brooke is bawling. She stops him, bringing her icy fingers to his lips. "Stop, Lucas."

"It's what _we_ wanted. It should have been us."

"Lucas, shut up! You're engaged to Peyton. She's having your baby. Stop! We're a thing of the past."

"That's what I thought, but when she told me she was pregnant, I just wished—"

A doorbell.

(Because a kiss at **Blue** Post led to the love between the couple behind the **red** door. A man in a **blue** jersey and a girl with a **red** feather fell in love. And that girl gave him a _purple_ money. _For **Blue** Skies._)


	2. A Dream Is a Wish My Heart Makesthe co

**Thank you, brookenlucas4eva03, erika x3, bella, troypay-zashley-4eva, PrettyTigger23, Brucasfan23, and everyone who subscribed. =) You are all very kind. **  
To be honest, I'm not really sure where I'm going with this story. So please tell me what you think.

* * *

_A Dream Is a Wish My Heart Makes--the continuation._

The doorbell.

Another ring chimes through her two-story house.

And then another.

Brooke straightens her attire, wipes the tears building in her eyes, leaving behind a fractured Lucas. She peeks through the peephole and sees another blonde outside with an even tighter jaw. She opens the door. Her voice cracks, "Hey, Julian." She pushes him outside. "Any word about Sam yet?"

He shakes his head. "So you haven't heard anything either?"

"No, and I'm worried about her. It's raining cats and dogs, and she's with…Jack Daniels."

Julian wraps his arms around. "Why are we outside?"

"I like it out here," she lies through her teeth. "I like it out here with you." About this, she is telling the truth.

He gives her one of his trillion dollar grins. "Did you get any rest today?"

She nods her head.

"Really? How many times did you go to the police station today?" chuckles Julian, "They called me to ask you to stop bothering them, or they'll file a restraining order against you."

Brooke rolls her eyes and smiles, kissing Julian on the chin. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"I'm a dick. I'm only being nice to you to get you in bed. I'm a pervert, remember?"

She looks at him. His beautiful jaw line. His fuzzy hair. His amazingly white teeth. His twinkling eyes. His rock-hard body. She rests her head on his shoulders.

"Do you want to go look for her?"

"I just don't know where to look for her. We've tried everywhere," says Brooke as she rests her head on his shoulders. "Why does she have to be so stubborn?"

"I bet she got that from you after living with you for so long."

They sit in silence. Julian watches her as she stares into the open air. Hail begins to thrash onto the ground—yet, somehow, everything feels serene to her, despite the Sam disappearance, the Pucas disaster, and a clothing line as progressive as Mia's next album.

"Jack won't harm Sam."

"I believe that. I mean, he did what he did to me for Sam."

"Does it still hurt?"

She smiles at him. "Not really."

"Good."

"Good."

"Please get some rest," says Julian, "because your eyes are really puffy, Pretty Girl."

Pretty Girl. "I don't want to lie to you, Julian."

"If you're going to tell me Sam is home and this is all a plot to see me every night, well…that's fine."

"Lucas is upstairs."

The lights flash on: the light inside, the streetlights. Brooke can clearly see Julian's dimples fade, his eyes gouge, and his warmth diminish. "Really?"

"Peyton's pregnant."

Julian's eye brows rise. He doesn't look upset.

She can't tell what he's thinking. She leans in closer to say, "He's upset and needed a friend to talk to."

"Go ahead," Julian says with an assuring smile, "If he needs a friend, then go be one."

"I just don't want to sabotage what we started."

"You won't. We said we would take things slowly."

"So you're not…jealous?" asks Brooke playfully.

"Oh, am I? You have no idea how hard I'm trying to refrain from socking him in the face! But…I promised Sam I wouldn't blow it with Brooke Davis."

It has only been one week since Lucas was in Los Angeles, Peyton found out she was pregnant, Sam ran away, Brooke chased after Julian and…

"Hey!" she hollered at Julian.

He turns around, "Brooke, I told you…I'm not playing hero. I'm not trying to save the damsel in distress."

Brooke's makeup was smeared over her face. "Where's your coffee?"

"I'm a quick drinker."

She smiles, grabs his face, and sticks her tongue into his mouth. "I don't taste coffee."

For the first time, he's speechless. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Brooke inserts her tongue inside. He responds, twirling his with hers. His arms wrap around her waist. Her arms slide around his neck. The two bodies, linked as one, stood in the cold, deserted street.

(Because the one she wouldn't trust gained her trust.)

"Are you upset Peyton's pregnant?"

He doesn't look at her. Instead, he leans on the pole, staring at the tree on a hill before them. "I don't know. I guess I'm just kind of shocked. I don't know what I think right now. Are you upset?"

"Yeah, a little. I really wanted a child, a family, and I guess I'm a bit jealous she gets one first."

"I can help you with that, Brooke."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, after you talk to Lucas. I'll see you tomorrow night?" Julian leans over and kisses Brooke on the forehead. He walks into the rain, and she watches his distancing figure. He turns around when he reaches his vehicle. "I'm bothered by Peyton's pregnancy, Brooke," screams Julian, "but I, I only want us. I think I love you, Brooke"—his proclamation audible despite the loud thunder.

She blows him a kiss and walks back into the house, closes the door behind her, and takes a deep breath. There's still a man waiting for her upstairs. She kicks off her boots and walks up the stairs. Sam is going to have to wait, and tonight she'll pray—something she hasn't done for a while—pray that there is an almighty force that will protect her teenager another night. She knocks on her bedroom door before entering.

Lucas, seated on her bed, looks up at her. "Are you happy?"

She cocks her eyebrows. "Am I happy?"

"With Julian. You're with Julian, right?"

"And you have a pregnant fiancée , right?"

"And you kept the letters I sent you back in high school," whispers Lucas, revealing a shoebox.

(Because there's also a history of written love.)

* * *


	3. A Nightmare Is a Wish My Heart Hates

Thank you for your good words, BrookeLucasForever, bella, Happily Ever After-x, toddntan, mcdreamyslover, Brucasforever09, brookenlucas4eva03, cRiMsOnGoDdEsS01, brulian equals forbidden love., and Brucasfan23. You are all too kind. Thank you. And thank you to those who subscribed. Getting emails is a feeling more awesome than eating good tempura. And now, for my latest addition to this story that I have no idea where it's going...(Sorry about the tense shifts.)

* * *

_A Nightmare Is a Wish My Heart Hates_

"Why are you going through my stuff?" growls Brooke, snatching away the box of letters in Lucas' hands.

"Do you still love me?" asks Lucas gently.

Brooke doesn't answer. She stares at the ceiling plastered above her, hoping tears won't drip down her eyes. "Just go home, Lucas, please."

"Because I know I love you. I _do_ love you, Brooke Davis."

"And I love you, Lucas Scott, but we're only friends. Nothing more."

He stares at her, not knowing what to say.

"You're saying this now because you're afraid, afraid of the responsibilities you'll have as a dad."

He shakes his head.

"But you'll be a wonderful dad," verifies Brooke.

Lucas, sitting on the bed, opens his arms for Brooke to walk over for a hug.

She does just that. She walks over to hug him, widening her arms around the dispirited Lucas with one knee resting between his thighs on the bed. "Don't worry about a thing. You're going to be great," she whispers into his ears. Her breath tingles on his bare skin. She feels him nod against her collarbone. "Oh, Lucas, don't do this to me. I have no doubt you'll be the best dad ever. Just go be the best husband, Luke."

His butt slips on her red, silky sheets-bring him physically closer to her lower body. He looks up at her, and his nose rubs her neck. "She's going to be a terrible mother."

Knowing how inappropriate this really is, she still can't help but laugh-a laugh in Brooke's only-for-Lucas giggle. "Oh, Luke. Tell me how I can get you out of the slumps."

"Tell me how I can get rid of Peyton."

"She's pregnant and your fiancée!"

"How do I even know it's mine?"

Brooke's face drops, and she shoves him back-so hard even the Tempurpedic mattress bounces. "Is this how you avoid everything? Not everyone's a big, cheating whore, you know?" _Oh, but we all certainly know who is._

"I'm not avoiding anything!" Lucas yells back, gripping her hands in his. "When she told me she was pregnant, she just made me realized how I _cannot_ spend my entire life with her! I can't do that! I don't want to do that. Why should we stay together just because we're...just because she's pregnant? It's not fair to me nor is it to her or you, or us!"

She's kneeling on the bed, towering above his reclining body. "You're just afraid! You and Peyton have this epic love. You'll have another moment of 'clarity'!"

He shakes his head. "I understand why other people would say that, but I can't believe you think Peyton and I share anything remotely close to an epic love. Stop forcing me to her. Again!"

Tempted by an urge to slap him, she resists from doing so but manages to swing her hand out of his secure grasp. She points a finger at him. "It's you. You wrote that you had a moment of _clarity_! At the championship game! With Peyton! Quit blaming others because you're temporarily tired of her, Ass!"

"She doesn't mean anything; I lied."

Brooke shakes her head in disbelief. There's nothing left to do but walk out of here. She closes the door behind him, leaving him dumbfounded.

(Because love is sacrifice. And there's no place for selfishness in true love.)

It took only eight minutes and two seconds for Lucas to come downstairs. He spots Brooke sitting on the couch watching a movie. "Why are you watching _House of Wax_?"

"Nick Jones is hot!"

"You think so?"

"I know so. He's been my fantasy since high school."

"Brooke?"

"But Paige is a bitch." She presses pause, and turns her face over to Lucas.

Seated on the sofa with his elbows rested on the couch and body facing Brooke, Lucas opens his mouth-hoping for words to surface. He inhales deeply.

Clearly, Brooke senses his hesitation. "I think you're saying this because you're scared. I don't think that you really mean it. You know what? I think we need to get drunk, really, really good drunk." She is about ready to get up, but Lucas pulls her back down onto the couch.

"Brooke, no alcohol. Let's just...talk," says Lucas, at last finding his voice.

"Okay, I'll start." She takes his hand in hers. "A pregnancy is hard on a girl. I don't think you can ever imagine how difficult it is to be heartbroken by you-let alone be pregnant, too. Lucas, you have to be there for her. You have to. This girl went with you to Las Vegas just because you asked her."

"Why did you break up with me in senior year?"

Brooke's mouth gapes open, surprised by Lucas' question. "I...It's a thing of the past, Luke."

"Tell me," he demands.

"I told you I stopped missing you."

"_Did_ you stop?"

"Does it even matter now?"

"Brooke, just tell me how we went from dancing at Nathan and Haley's wedding to 'I can't do this anymore.' What happened?"

She sighs. "I just needed someone to love me back, to want me, to need me."

His face and heart are torn, shredded, and stomped on. "Brooke..." says Lucas with much yearn.

"It shouldn't be so hard-love. I didn't want to fight for you with Rachel, with Peyton, or with your basketball team. I didn't mind waiting, but I just couldn't keep waiting for you to return Love."

He shakes his head, "I loved you, Brooke. I'm not sure if I ever stopped. I would have given anything to stay with you. Why couldn't you just accept that?"

"Accept what? That you called Rachel instead of me? That the morning after we got back together you went on a road trip with Peyton? Or that you had no problem having Peyton sleep on your bed days after we broke up?"

Lucas continues to shake his head. "It was never supposed to be like that."

"But in the end, it all hurts the same."

"Do you think...you could ever give me another chance?"

"Peyton's at home waiting for you, Lucas."

"I made a mistake. I don't want to live my entire life resenting her, her kid...That's not right!"

Brooke's eyes aren't watery. Not a single bit. They are indeed full of compassion and sympathy, but not a single tear surfaced-unlike Lucas'. His eyes are red and blotchy, much like his face.

They sit there in silence staring at each other until Lucas broke the spell. "I love you."

Weakened by three words spoken in a genuine and sincere tone, Brooke flings her body over Lucas. He's shocked, no doubt. But somehow, he still manages to wrap his buff arms around the torso lying on top of his, in a firm embrace.

"I love you, too," she whispers, "And I never stopped." Then she pushes his chest to prop herself up and away from his body. Sitting back on her side of the couch, she begins, "But you're with Peyton, Lucas. You proposed to her. She's having your baby. You're obligated. And for me, I'm happy with Julian."

"I'm fighting for you. It's six years later, but I will."

"Don't. I don't want you to fight for me."

"Have you been with him?"

She doesn't know how to answer.

"Have you been with anyone after me?"

She nods her head-her second lie tonight.

(Because he's the _one_ boy she would have lost it all for.)

"It doesn't matter whether you'll take me back right now. I'm still going to break things off with Peyton. I don't want to live this lie anymore."

"I'm happy with Julian," she states.

"For now. I'm the guy for you, Brooke Davis, you'll see."

She honestly doesn't know what to say. What is there to say? "Thanks." _D'oh!_ And she presses play.

The two watch _House of Wax_, cheering when a certain blonde female dies. Sometime during the movie, Brooke screamed, Lucas clutched her, and they stayed in that position-until Brooke fell asleep on Lucas' shoulders.

Her hand roams to a certain area. Instinctively. Being a guy with needs and hormones, he bends forward-with high hopes of rubbing against Brooke-to turn off the television. He looks at her, studies her brown hair against his cheeks, sniffs at her pure perfume, and holds her thin body against his. He misses this so much. _How did he forget this feeling? _He gives her a soft kiss on the forehead before resting his eyes.

They haven't even finished the movie.

(Because it's not over yet. Not over until the end credits roll,  
and what is rightfully hers is returned.)

2:09 A.M. Brooke wakes up. It's dark, of course, but she recognizes this warmth. It's Lucas. She's curled in his arms without a blanket. And for the longest time, she does not want to move. She remains in that position, watching as fuzz lengthens on his chin. She gently brushes against the stubble, tempted to lick the pair of lips above. She misses this. She misses this rated-G, physical intimacy.

A picture of Angie and them catches her eye. And she is reminded of Peyton and the child she now bears. Brooke taps him gently but enough to wake him from his sleep.

"Hey." Her voice is soft-like cottons and clouds.

"Hi." His smile is radiant-like the moon and sun.

"Let's go upstairs."

(Because Baby Angie isn't what makes them family-like. It's their love,  
especially the subconscious one, for each other that makes them perfect.)

* * *

**Well, what do you think? **Like I said, I really don't know where this story is going--I'm kind of just writing as I picture things in my troubled head. But!! I do have an idea for like a story that would probably take place two or three chapters down the line. But I'm still curious to know what you guys think so far. Brucas or Brulian? Better yet, a lesbian couple of Breyton? (I kid! I kid! I would not do such a thing to Brooke.)


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